Tagged: Self-portrait

On this night, the ties that bind are makeshift, fashioned from a narrow black patent leather belt worn by her earlier in the day. In no mood for trifling, he crudely straps her slender wrists together hoping for immediate signs of his force on her creamy skin as he positions her against the wall.

She is just as he wants her, just as he wants to gaze upon her while considering the infinite possibilities of her defilement. Scratching the muscular abdomen through the gap in his shirt, he moves up close to begin staking his territory, his touch shifting from unnervingly light to achingly fierce – the tips of fingers skimming her silky inner thighs; his stubbled chin scrapping along curves and swells; the full-lipped mouth kissing and licking; sharp teeth biting and marking; his deep, deliberate breaths consuming, guzzling, savouring the sweet, spicy essence of his willing victim.

Standing, trembling, her body is now a vessel of pure sensation, his darkness and light washing over her, sinking in and overtaking, ears filled with the rapid thud of her heartbeat, eyes blinded by the white hot beam of her lust. And while she is at his mercy, she knows submission affords its own unique power, tearing at the limits of her pleasure and her pain, at the boundaries surrounding her ordering mind.

She knows this in her very depths just as she is certain of the dilated pupils of his chocolate eyes, the fine mist covering his torso, the precum seeping from his thick hard uncut meat, fusing his desperately throbbing cock to his boxers. In the end, she knows the power it also holds over him, she also holds over him. And as he twines his fingers through her hair, leading her roughly to the bedroom, bound and possessed, she knows her acquiescence sets them both free.

(Remember to knock on Osbasso’s door to see this week’s gorgeous players…)

She stretches out languorously, foot reaching for the curtain, flooding the bed with soft autumnal daylight. While her body continues to hum from the morning’s decadent play, she soaks up the gentle morning warmth increasingly aware of the renewed intensity rising up inside her.

Requiring more, desiring more, needing to feel the weight of his body bearing down upon her once again, his silky hardness penetrating her heat, she slides her leg back down and across the bed. Her glistening cunt now spot lit in the glow, she patiently awaits his return.

(Remember to knock on Osbasso’s door to see this week’s gorgeous players…)

He has seen this lingerie and dress before, but never in the flesh, never up close on my bed in the light of day.

Desiring eyes momentarily drive my nervousness away as I lie on my side, the fabric bunching around my thighs, his hand travelling along my legs, taking in the texture of the denim, the silkiness of the lace, the soft swell of my breast.

Smiling hungrily, he reaches back, producing the camera, small and light, beginning once again with the very form that brought us together.

“Don’t be shy,” he tells me. “Show yourself.”

But words seem to fail me. There are merely two circling my mind.

Be gentle…

(Remember to knock on Osbasso’s door to see this week’s gorgeous players…)